


Summer Nights

by StarliteNights



Series: AU Dixon Living [4]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - No Zombie Apocalypse, Alternate Universe - No Zombies, Brotherly Love, Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Good Sibling Merle Dixon, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Young Daryl Dixon, Young Merle Dixon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-03-29 20:31:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19027390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarliteNights/pseuds/StarliteNights
Summary: The shack they call home is nothing more then an industrial sized oven in the summer.





	Summer Nights

**Author's Note:**

> Unbetaed Walking Dead isn't mine :(
> 
> Daryl is eight and Merle around sixteen. This is a prequel snippet to the other works in this series.

The shack they call home is a fucking nightmare, especially at the peak of summer. It's sweltering. The air thick and sticky and without any form of air condition, it's practically unliveable. 

With momma passed out somewhere in the living room and daddy gone off for the night, it's relatively safe for once. Safe enough for Merle to strip down to nothing but a pair of boxer briefs and not have to worry about it. No momma looped outta her mind or daddy coming in to take a swing at him. Just peace and quite and the small mercy of being basically naked to cool off. 

His room isn't much. A space for the single bed and the closet off to the side with just enough room to walk between the two and over to the door. It's cramped and the closet isn't much either but it's better then Daryl's. At least Merle has a closet, even his own window. Daryl doesn't have a window either. Hell Daryl's still in his crib at the age of eight. Technically it's just the mattress from the crib moved to the floor, but still. 

Fuck it's hot. The windows cracked as far as he can get it to go, but it sticks not even half way open and refuses to move anymore. So it's not much and there isn't even a breeze really. Which means he gets to lay there soaked in his own sweat and suffer through it. 

Tucking his hand behind his head he stares up at the stain in the corner of his ceiling. The paints peeling over on the far wall and there's a hole near the door by the light switch that doesn't even matter as the lights blowed. The tiny bit of floor space that he does have is covered in dirty second hand clothing and his boots over in the corner. His ratty old blankets are kicked down near the bottom edge of the bed. 

He'll be sixteen in a little under a month and he's got absolutely nothing to show for it. Chances are momma won't remember it and even if she do they can't afford anything and it'll be days late. Daddy sure as hell won't, and if momma does and she brings it up it won't end well for him. He won't be getting any presents but an ass whooping instead. Whole lotta good that'll do for him. Daryl won't remember it either, not unless momma does or he tells him himself. He's just a kid though, he barely knows the date as it is let alone being able to keep track of birthdays. Either way he's the only one that would care. He'd wish him the 'totally bestest birthday ever' and give him a big ole hug with those scrawny little arms of his. Probably find a really pretty rock or something to give him too. He did last year. He still has the little white quartz tucked away at the top of his closet. Only way to keep something safe around here. 

There's a creek outside his door and for a moment his heart stops, before he's breaking out into a cold sweat regardless of the heat. Momma's passed out and as far as he knows daddy left with Marcus which means their going drinking and playing poker at his place. Which means he'll pass out and stay there until sometime tomorrow afternoon. Hopefully. His door creeks open letting the dull light from the tv in the living room across the hall in. There's a mess of soft blonde hair and two blue eyes peaking over at him from around the edge of the door. Ah. Daryl. That's fine. Daryl's fine. He's safe.

"Watchu' doin' up? Mm, should be tucked up in bed."

Daryl's eyes drop to the rugged mess of a carpet floor and he mumbles something into his chest. His hand finds it's way up towards his face and sure enough his thumb slips up between thin lips. Merle knows why he's here and he already knows he'll let em stay the night. Regardless of how disgustingly hot it is they'll spend the night sandwiched together in his itty bitty bed. Cause Daryl's scared and lonely and Merle's the only one that gives a damn. The only one that's safe. 

"Yeah a'right boy, come on and close that door."

Daryl slips inside and turns to push the door closed behind him, almost tripping up in one of Merle's shirt doin it. But he manages and turns back to navigate the mess of his floor and over to the bed. The boys like a new born calf still, all gangly limbs and not an ounce of grace. He's too small, not enough weight and he's pretty. He'll be real pretty when he's older too and Merle's dreading the kinda comments he knows people will make. He'll have to toughen him up before it gets to that, Daryl already wears his heart on his sleeve. Last thing he needs is people 'hurting his feelings' by calling him a 'pretty boy' or a 'faggot'. He gets hurt enough as it is. 

Daryl scrambles his way up the side of the bed with Merle pulling him up by an arm. The boys down to his underwear himself and flushed. He's still so young and sweet. Too sweet, he's bound to get himself hurt over it. 

He tucks himself right into Merle's side and settles in first thing. Glued to him from the start. He already knows it's gonna be a long night but hopefully Daryl can sleep. If even just for a little while. Merle already knows he probably won't, maybe he'll doze off a bit but he sleeps light. He doesn't really have much of a choice. 

"Mer?"

"Hm?" He looks down at his little brother squished into him. 

His hair is just starting to get shaggy, making him look up through his bangs to watch Merle. His pretty little blue eyes are sleep heavy and his cheeks heat flushed. He still has his damn thumb stuck in his mouth too.

"Watchu' wan'?" 

"S'ory?" His voice is child high and lisped, partially cause he's talking with his mouth full. 

"Story huh? Wha' kinda story you want'n?" 

Daryl's little brow scrunches up like he's thinking real hard about his choices, as if it's gonna be some life altering decision or something.

"Da' forest thingy."

Ah. That again. He should have known that's what Daryl would pick. Ever since he had mentioned it that one time out in the woods around their shack Daryl had been hooked. 

Chupacabra. 

Merle can't even remember where he had heard about the legend himself. He'd only brought it up to scare Daryl into staying close, the boy had a tendency to wander if you didn't watch him like a hawk. Had told him he'd get eaten if he wander off alone, that the beast would find him and drag him off. Sure, maybe it's not the best approach to dealing with kids but it worked. Daryl sticks close, where he can see him and not have to worry about loosing him. Except Daryl's also completely fascinated with a make believe creature now. 

Merle's pretty sure he saw something about it being coyotes with mange or rabies or something. Either way Daryl's both terrified and obsessed with the thing. Merle's running outta ideas for story's too. Cause while scaring Daryl enough to keep him safe is all fine and dandy, he doesn't want to actually give the kid nightmares or anything. So his story's tend to lean more towards mystery then actual horror. Which just makes Daryl more intrigued. 

"P'wease?" Daryl nuzzles into his shoulder, his face baby soft and sweet. Completely irresistible. 

"Yeah, a'right. But jus' one, Got it?"

He nods his little head making wispy blonde locks brushing against Merle's chin. 

"Hmmm, so there was this lil' girl right? And she went a wanderin' ended up gettin' herself all turned around..."

He'll wake early tomorrow morning and get Daryl up. Get him dressed and maybe fed if he can find anything in their mess of a kitchen that's edible. Take him out to the woods and away from their problems for a bit. Long enough for daddy to come home and drink himself back to sleep, and momma to smoke herself away. He'll let Daryl follow the little rabbit trails and poke at flowers and bugs alike. If it gets too hot they can make the trip over to the pond for a swim, even though he'll have to carry Daryl back on account of him being beat out. Maybe old Mrs. Williams will lend em something to eat if he does a few chores for her. She's real good like that, even if Merle hates the pitying looks she'll give. It means Daryl will get to eat. Daryl thinks she's real nice too. He'll probably end up napping on her back porch swing.

Tomorrow will be fine. At least Merle hopes it will be. He'll do what he can and cross his fingers for the rest. 

Tonight he'll tell Daryl his stupid Chupacabra story and sweat his ass off. He'll lay there and watch Daryl sleep and wish he could take him away. But he's not even sixteen and he's not stupid. He knows there's a lot he's gotta do before that happens. 

Some day though. Some day he'll take him and they'll go. They'll leave and they won't look back. Just him and Daryl, that's all he needs.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and Kudos inspire the writer, and are greatly appreciated :)


End file.
